Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Armando Romero

THE DIGITAL TREE.This was a man whose right hand had been buriedwho would spend his days in an empty roomresting his feet against the upper corner of the window while holding a ship's porthole in his left hand; rhinoceroses would pierce it with their hornsand allow their metallic hides to shine through

He had taken up the notion of being a poetand spent so much of his time talking about the war that he had neglected his right hand.

It had grown slowly and furiouslyand, without his being aware of it, had crossed through the very center of the earth and surfaced at the other end.

When the children of northern Sumatrasuddenly saw a tree without leaves and without fruit, they rushed off to summon their parents, When they came, they brought heavy swordsand felled the tree at its roots. A white liquid seeped from its ravaged bark.

From that moment on, this man as a poet, feels a sharp, cutting pain, but he cannot tell exactly where in his body it is contained.